Shockproof
by somebuddy
Summary: A postSkin fic. Abby’s been pushed to her limit. After pointedly evading Ray, Wendall, and Susan, it’s baby Cosmo who finally tempers her tale. SusanAbby friendship.


SHOCKPROOF

"Oh, God," she stammered, struggling against the flood of tears and wash of nausea that overcame her. The shaking seemed to start in her chest, making it almost impossible to breathe without heaving. _"Go, run," _said a voice—but she couldn't. She felt a dull tingle in her hands, but the rest of her body was numb. _"Run!" _pleaded the voice again. She stood, rooted, as the wind picked up, blowing her hair forward across her face. Another full minute passed before Abby realized it was her own voice—strained, and crackling with fear. Finally, she forced herself to move, trotting towards the ER with feverish uncertainty. She was sobbing now, gulping air whenever she could, as she moved blindly across the macadam and up the stairs towards the sliding doors. Behind the thick glass, she thought she saw Susan. But she stumbled on the top step, grazing the railing with her left arm. The pain registered slowly, crawling from her wrist past her elbow, making her yelp in surprise. She turned abruptly, folding her arm across her chest as she sank to her heels. The humility she felt was almost palpable now, pressing her deeper into the shadows of the building. Mindlessly, she ground her knuckles against her eyes until they were rubbed raw.

Minutes later, she heard the heavy echo of footsteps pulsing across the macadam and up the steps towards the ER. Fearful and confused, she couldn't manage to stifle the hoarse scream that rose from her chest. Abby lashed out in frenzy, slapping and thrashing madly at the man as he grabbed her by the shoulders, jerking her backwards until she was up on her feet, pinned against him. Leaning forward, she strained to break away, doubling over as she felt his arms flex and lock below her ribcage.

"Lockhart!" he warned. "My God, Lockhart, stop it—what the hell?"

He relaxed his grip and firmly shifted her back down until she was sitting against his shin. Cautiously, he leaned forward until he was sure Abby saw his face.

"Ray—" Abby croaked as a strained sense of relief washed over her.

"Lockhart, hey, talk to me," Ray said, giving her a gentle shake. But Abby dropped her head into her hands, effectively shutting out everything around her.Shesobbed wildly, tears sliding through her fingers and darkening the bloodstains on her scrubs.The acrid scent of stale blood made her gag slightly. Wiping her nose on her sleeve, she turned her head to the side to steal a breath.

Ray was still crouched beside her, staring intently.

"Could you maybe find Susan or Carter for me?" she whispered hoarsely.

Ray nodded, but continued to regard her with caution. "I'm guessing you don't need immediate medical attention. My ass belongs to Lewis if you do, Lockhart. Stay right here. Don't do anything stupid."

She glanced at him and nodded slightly, brushing away more tears.

Ray lingered, considering the situation. Finally, he shrugged out of his coat and draped it across Abby's shoulders. "You know what? I can't do this; I can't leave you out here without knowing what happened. C'mon, get up here." He reached forward, waiting for her to accept his hand. Slowly, he drew her to her feet, pulling her against his side until she seemed steady. "Okay—you don't have to say anything. Just walk inside with me."

Casting her gaze to the ground, she let him lead her through the doors.

"You know all that crap you've fed me about being instinctive? Now it's going to bite you in the ass." He paused to rub her shoulder reassuringly.

The slightest trace of a smile touched Abby's lips as her eyes flickered toward him.

"I'm not so bad when it counts," he added with a satisfied smirk.

They ducked inside the ER unnoticed. Ray unlocked the suture room, and held the door open for Abby. "Your room, my dear," he said, guiding her through the doorway. Before she could slip past him, he reached for her shoulder, forcing her to make eye contact. "Abby, seriously, can I do anything to help you?"

She chewed her lower lip and swallowed hard before answering him. "You already did," she said quietly.

"No hard feelings, then?"

"None."

"I'll go get Lewis for you." Ray let himself out, latching the door quietly.

Abby lowered herself onto a rolling stool and perched awkwardly on its edge. She raked her fingers through her bangs, pausing to pull through a knot. Her fingers felt stiff and uncooperative—and she drew a sharp breath as the pain of countless bruises and scrapes registered. She had just reached for the hand lotion when the door opened unexpectedly, startling her. An assortment of suturing instruments crashed to the floor with a tinny clatter. She could barely hear Susan's voice over the drumming in her ears.

"Abby," she said, frowning. "My God, what _happened?"_

For a brief moment, Abby held Susan's eyes, opening her mouth as if to speak. But before she could say a word, she quickly dissolved into quiet, fitful tears, pressing her hand over her mouth and nose.

Susan frowned again and moved to Abby's side, gently placing her hand on Abby's back.

"Are you hurt?" Susan asked gently.

"Just sore," Abby said, brushing her fingertips under her eyes roughly. She scowled, obviously annoyed with herself. "I'm sorry," she said, sniffling.

Susan raised her eyebrows and shook her head slightly, dismissing Abby's reticence. She pulled several Kleenex from a box and handed them to Abby. "How about changing? Do you have clothes in your locker?" Susan suggested.

"I… um, I might have sweats. Or clean scrubs. It doesn't matter," Abby said softly, twisting the tissues between her fingers.

"Well, I have sweats in my locker if you don't," Susan said with a half-smile. "Are you okay to get yourself cleaned up? I'll put some washcloths on the sink in the bathroom for you. Let me grab the sweats and I'll be right back to help you, okay?"

Abby closed her eyes for a minute and nodded slowly. But once Susan left the room, she was consumed by anxiety. Her breathing was rapid, still punctuated by sniffling sobs. Her mind raced, scrambling images of the night together until the line between what had happened before and what was happening now became blurry.

When Susan returned a few minutes later, a terrified scream caught in Abby's throat and she crouched low against the wall, covering her face with her arms. She glanced warily towards Susan, uncertainty dawning slowly across her face.

Susan reached down, placing a firm hand on Abby's arm. "Come on, let's get changed." She steered Abby into the bathroom, twisted the faucet on, and busied herself by wringing the washcloths until they felt warm. She handed one to Abby, who immediately pressed it over her eyes. Gently, Susan began working the other washcloth across the back of Abby's neck and towards her jaw. Wincing, Abby lowered her washcloth.

"I can do this," she told Susan.

"You're sure?" Susan replied gently.

Abby pressed her lips together and nodded.

"Then I'll wait for you out here—" Susan paused, noticing Abby blanch.

"Stay," she whispered hoarsely.

"Yes, okay—of course." Susan dropped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat and tried to effectuate a comfortable stance as she leaned back against the bathroom door.

"Listen, Abby, Wendall's on her way down here to talk to you," Susan said quietly.

Abby looked up, locking Susan into her gaze. "I don't need counseling," she said flatly.

"I know that," Susan replied, "I wasn't the one who called her—Kerry did."

"I _don't_ need counseling," Abby said again. She felt her cheeks grow hot.

As if on cue, Wendall knocked softly on the door and leaned into the bathroom. "Hello, Abby; Dr. Lewis."

Abby threw Susan a look of pure petulance as she pressed her fingertips along her cheekbones to cool her flaming face.

"Wendall, I think Kerry may have jumped the gun by calling you. Abby doesn't want counseling. Everything is okay for now," Susan said apologetically.

"Abby, I'm sure you are just extremely overwhelmed right now. That's why I'm here—to help you sort things out." Wendall reached over and rubbed Abby's shoulder briskly. Abby flinched and pulled away, shaking her head.

"Please don't," she said icily. "Listen, Wendall, I can make this easy for you. I'm fine, really. I just want to go home. No counseling. No meds." Abby shrugged and glanced at Susan.

Susan nodded. "Look, Wendall, I'm sorry Kerry called you down here for nothing. I'm sure she was just concerned." She raised her eyebrows, catching Abby's glance. "We'll get a hold of you if anything comes up. Abby's going to come home with me tonight, anyhow, so safety won't be an issue. And I can prescribe something for anxiety if she changes her mind."

"Dr. Lewis, I'm sorry, but I can't walk away from this yet. Dr. Weaver put Abby on my service and whether you're comfortable with the Social Work intake or not, I'm responsible for completing it. Abby, I have to ask you a few questions."

Susan turned to catch Abby's eyes, bright with tears. She spoke with difficulty, struggling to keep both her anger and anxiety in check. "Listen, Wendall, I understand you're just trying to do your job—but I'm pretty sure I'm not admitted. I'm going to use the bathroom and then I'm planning to get the hell out of here. I've had a _really_ long day."

"Look, Abby, without my evaluation, Dr. Weaver is going to put you out on short-term disability for at least a week." Wendall tilted her head and crossed her arms, waiting for Abby to comply.

Abby balked. "I can't afford a week out," she said.

"No evaluation, no discussion—you'll be out," Wendall said calmly.

"Okay—fine." Abby threw her hands in the air and walked out of the bathroom, through the suture room, and out the door towards the ER.

"Don't look at me," snapped Susan, turning away

"Well, what am I supposed to say to Weaver?" Wendall asked.

"Nothing. Abby's right, you know. She was not admitted." Susan shrugged and started cleaning up, tossing Abby's blood-soaked scrubs into the linen hamper in the corner of the suture room.

-----

Five minutes later, Susan found Abby in the lounge, rummaging blindly through her locker.

"Hey—can I help you find something?" Susan asked quietly, resting her hand on Abby's back.

Abby's breath hitched in her throat as she tensed against Susan's touch. "I… I can't remember… I don't…" she closed her eyes, trying to control a sudden fit of tears.

Susan whispered, "Abby, it's alright—slow down, breathe. It's going to be okay, I promise. Tell me what you're looking for."

Abby continued sobbing softly into her hand for another minute before she could find her voice. "My… keys," she finally managed to choke out.

Susan reached past Abby and removed her saddlebag from the locker. After rooting around briefly, she produced Abby's keys. "It's okay—they're right here. But you can't go anywhere by yourself tonight. You'll come to my house and we'll sort everything out in the morning."

Abby shook her head slowly. "I just… I can't…"

"Okay, look—I'm not really giving you a choice. I know the last thing you feel like doing is socializing, but I promise you that Chuck will meet us with one foot out the door. He works doubles on my days off. He keeps Cosmo up for me so we can snuggle with a bottle before bed. My poor angel—he's so exhausted by the time I show up, he can barely make it through his milk. Besides, he misses his Aunt Abby." Susan raised her eyebrows. "What? Ask him!"

Abby closed her eyes and nodded slightly. "Okay, fine—you win. I'll stay over. But only because… I want to see Cosmo."

-----

Abby was dozing lightly on the couch when a high-pitched wail brought her reeling into consciousness. For a hazy moment, she couldn't remember where she was. Shaking her head as if to realign herself, she glanced around the living room until her mind caught up with her body. Exhaling slowly, she reminded herself that she was spending the night on Susan's couch. Leaning forward, she held up her wrist, squinting at her watch until she could make out the face. It was minutes past 2:00 a.m. She had barely been asleep for three hours.

"Hey, Mo," Abby murmured as she lifted Cosmo over his crib rails and into her arms. "Your mama's sleeping, but Aunt Abby's here. Okay?" She paused to stroke his wispy blond hair. "Let's wipe your tears away, Boogie Boy."

Abby pulled a tissue out of a box on the dresser and gently wiped the baby's face. Cradling him against her shoulder, she moved to Susan's rocker and put her feet up. Cosmo reached for Abby's hair and stroked it gently between his fingers. Half his mouth twitched upward into a sleepy, satisfied smile.

"You're a bug, huh?" whispered Abby as she shifted him until he was nestled against her chest. Carefully, she untangled her hair from his grasp and slid her finger against his palm instead. Cosmo accepted this change without fussing. Abby rubbed his back with her free hand, lost in his gaze. "When did you become this sweet?" she whispered, nuzzling the top of his head with her cheek. He yawned and shifted until he found his thumb with his lips. A soft sigh escaped as he began sucking rhythmically, his cheeks dimpling slightly in the moonlight. Abby turned her head and stifled a yawn. Turning back, she caught sight of a figure in the doorway. With a sharp gasp, she stumbled to her feet.

"Hey, hey—it's just me," Susan's voice was throaty. "Why don't you bring him out here, I'm warming a bottle. I didn't mean to scare you."

Abby nodded and made her way across Cosmo's bedroom and out into the living room, where Susan had turned on a small lamp in the corner. She sat down quietly on the couch, still cradling the baby against her shoulder.

Susan padded in from the kitchen and handed a warm bottle to Abby, who slipped it into Cosmo's mouth. The only sound in the room was the soft click of the nipple against Cosmo's tongue as he lulled himself back to sleep. Overwhelmed by a sudden flood of emotions, Abby felt her eyes fill with hot tears. She glanced nervously at Susan before letting her eyes rest on the baby's face.

"I was so scared," she said softly, stroking Cosmo's forehead. "They asked for a doctor—and I just walked over. I… I didn't think twice. I went over and… and they just pulled me in." Abby's lip trembled and she sniffled back a string of sobs. Her eyes were locked on the baby's face, absorbed by his calm sweetness. "And… and… in the back, lying down, in the back… he… he… was bleeding out." Abby paused. A shiver ran along her spine.

Susan shifted slightly and nodded, afraid to break the spell by speaking. She nudged a tissue box along the coffee table towards Abby, who continued sobbing softly.

Abby cleared her throat and flashed Susan a horrified look. "I ran stitches with… with..." Her voice trailed off as his agonized cry echoed in her mind. "Embroidery… thread," she managed to whisper.

Susan shook her head in disbelief.

"I tried telling them… no… but…Little C, he had—" Abby paused again, swallowing hard. "He had a gun," she croaked, biting her lip hard and cringing at the memory. "I had to… to try… to do it… to save him. But I… couldn't." Abby swiped at her eyes with her sleeve. "I couldn't," she whispered again.

"Oh, Abby," Susan whispered, reaching across the couch to hug her gently.

"Can you… can you just take him?" Abby asked as her eyes locked on Cosmo once more.

"Yes, sure—of course," Susan said, scooting forward on the couch. Abby lifted him to her cheek, nuzzled him close for a moment, and held him out to Susan.

"Thank you," she mouthed after Susan left the room.


End file.
